Back then, these same hands were wrapped around my father's murderer's neck. Now, they were choking me.
I clawed at his wrists, my nails digging into his flesh until blood welled up beneath them.
"Then kill me!" I spat. "Do it!"
Tears mixed with blood as they dripped down my chin, each drop burning against his skin.
He froze, his fingers trembling.
After a long, heavy silence, he released me and slammed his fist into the wall instead.
"I'm tired, Vienna," he muttered hoarsely. "I don't want to keep doing this with you."
"Take those three stabs as repayment for everything the Wilson family once did for me."
"From now on, we're strangers. Touch Cassidy again, and I'll make sure you regret it."
Through my blurry vision, I watched him carry Cassidy away, leaving behind nothing but blood and shattered glass.
At some point, my sister's framed photo had cracked down the middle—a perfect reflection of what we'd become: fractured beyond repair.
My sworn brother stumbled toward me, panic laced his voice. "Vienna, you're just going to let her go? How could Hendrix treat you like this? You're his sister!"
I let out a bitter laugh, pressing a trembling hand to my bleeding side.